Random Thought Before Dinner & Rehearsal

I started season 2 of Oz last night. Despite it being sort of lame (I know it'll get much better as time continues). I can't wait for Keller show show up! I think Miguel is amazing and creepy. Beecher, I hope he calms down a little bit. Biting someone's penis off, is a little much. Lastly, Rita and B.D. Wong, I'm waiting for your solo numbers. The one Beecher did was so amazing and heartbreaking. But Rita, if you perform. I want nothing less than an Oscar-Winning performance with a touch of The Ritz. Go girl!

Iguana Meets God

This is the first time I've seen you smile since we got back.

You blink and you stare at that statement. Really, the first time? We went to China, we didn't save the world. Was I the only one who got depressed? It's a strange thing to hear so quickly, from an outside party. My venom was that vile it poisoned the lovely Brooklyn Campus.

I went on two dates this last weekend and never heard back from either. I can't be held responsible for what I consider a natural reflex nowadays. Sex is sex is sex is sex. I want it. It makes me happy, when it's not there I don't necessarily miss it.

It just feels right when I meet someone I'm attracted to. I guess we could pin it down to self esteem. I use sex to justify how I see myself. The more guys I have sex with, the better I feel about myself. It's not around much anymore and I still feel the need to go to the gym. Just in case, he shows up again.

I need to find other things to raise my self esteem nowadays. It feels weird to do. It feels weird to be aware of it. I want to be noticed for other things, other than my libido. The male sex is putty in your cute blond hands. You know that any number of them will want to have sex with you. Yet, is it necessary to prolong what will eventually happen. That goes into my social skills and I am not ready to discuss that yet.

The whole notion of it tires me. Really, it truly does. Time for Oz!

School, school, school

It's begun, for the next 8 weeks I will be a hapless and unpaid slave to my college. Dog Sees God isn't a bad play, it's cynical and dark. It's basically the Peanuts gang in high school and how fucked up they've become. Lucy is a pyro, Linus is a pothead, Pigpen is a germaphobe. It's interesting.

I have been getting into Oz, the HBO show. I'm in season one (two episodes away from done) and it's so amazing. I love the drama, the sex, the drugs. Oh it's so exciting. Beecher just did PCP and threw a chair and hurt Schillinger's eye! I can't wait for Chris Keller to get on the scene. Oh then I'm gonna really love this show. Hubba, hubba!

I took today to catch up on my homework. I feel behind, still am hardly ahead. I am trying to take this final year of college gracefully. Things to remember and I'm constantly forgetting. I did find my glasses and I suppose that's a good thing. I couldn't run at the gym today. Odd because I love to run. Yet, my mind was being gnawed by little worries. Small mundane things:

Will I ever get the toothbrush out of the toilet?

Take Me Away

I was trying to get an early night, but I was stirred by dreams of the men in Oz. That prison show of yesteryear. It's very intense and I know I'm a little behind on the times, but it's really something! That Christopher Meloni is going places. I see good projects for Edie Falco! I'm working through season one and the idea of like anymore seasons just baffles me. It's so intense already.

Today was governed by my tear ducts. I've felt the overwhelming need for a good cry all day today. I'm not even sure why? Just little worries, little things. I lost my glasses, this makes me very sad. I can't exactly turn to my parents and buy a whole new pair. There's a possibility that they could be found. I'm a young persons still and my eyes are pretty good (just the lazy eye) but they freak out.

I accidentally flushed my toothbrush down the toilet. Okay, so that came out weird. See I was naked...oh wait, that isn't good either. Look I didn't know she was dead when it fell into the toilet. It was an accident though, it fell from my hands and went right down. Now the toilet is flushing weird. My poor toothbrush.

What has happened to this country? I can't understand how we've come to this point in time. Nothing feels right, in the world and the universe. The death and the war and the people running for presidency and vice, as well.

I think I want to move. Or maybe it's just turning fall again. Time to reawaken this affair up. Or leave for good. Joan Didion get out of my bag, you plant seeds, evil seeds. I beseech thee!

Why Joan, Why This?

Since Joan Didion has been very correct in the twists and turns of my life. This one took me for a turn:

But the problem is, you can’t simply leave New York—you have to quit New York. You have to admit to yourself and the world that you’re packing it in, calling it a day, turning out the lights. You have to walk away from, as Joan Didion put it, “the sense, so peculiar to New York, that something extraordinary would happen any minute, any day, any month.” (It should be noted she wrote that in an essay about her decision to leave New York.)

I got it from this article. Interesting. The rest of the article is a little clunky, but it presents some interesting points. If I left I wouldn't die. Food for thought.

I like Skim

How amazing. I start to cry each time I watch this trailer.

WOW. What a voice!

Alice Payten. Holy Fucking Shit. Amazing.

The Witching Hour Is Appraoching

I think it's official. Insomnia has forced me to admit I am a night person. Of course my alarm is set for 7:30 am, but no matter which way I lay my head on my pillow I feel no rest.

I spent the night watching Cowboy Bebop and giving a stranger a dirty show via Photo booth. Every night, life gets weirder and weirder. I want rest, I need rest. I yawn as I type this, but the moment I lay my head down I feel more alert. The pillow inspires thought. I count my breath, I count numbers and I count my blessings. Nothing helps.

The bed I have made seems to be very uncomfortable sometimes. Yet, I will not deny that I sleep in it nightly.

The Terror of Being Alone

Well I did it, I spent the day by myself. It was tough, but I manged to put my thoughts in order and not left the house in 72 hours. A sensation within itself. I only felt cabin fever a couple of times. I haven't worn a shirt in a while, it feels nice to be shirtless. I may stay that way forever. Ah, for the days of the warrior.

I worked on my solo performance piece, just writing down pieces of memory of the last couple of months. It's difficult to do, but I want to. To recount what I've chosen to remember and decided to forget. It's a patchwork of writing, I'll piece it together when it's all there.

I have been playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. It's the funniest game because half the time the ghetto speak means nothing to me. A character keeps using the term water, but I think he means booze. Stuff like that.

This was meant to go somewhere, but unfortunately it's not.

Two Comics That Are True To Life

First one is from Natalie Dee:


The second just shows that this happens to straight people too, and for that I don't feel so alone. It's from Ctrl+Alt+Del:

Part I:

Part II: